“My cousin Adam?” she asked incredulously.
“None other.’’ Simon reflected for a moment. “I suppose he’s too modest to have boasted of his accomplishments in his letters to you.”
Antonia nodded, trying to absorb this new information. “I got the impression that he was doing rather well, but he never hinted at being a legend.”
She picked a sprig of ragwort, saying absently, “Judith makes the most exquisite drawings of plants like these.” Brooding at the yellow blossom, she added, “How exasperating of Adam not to hint how well he was doing. I shall have to ring a peal over him.”
“Don’t do that. My bringing such a dire fate on his head would be a poor return after all Adam has done for me.” Lord Launceston’s deep-blue eyes met hers earnestly. “If he hadn’t helped me when I inherited the title, I would have been in dire straits.”
At Antonia’s inquiring glance, he elaborated. “I hadn’t expected to inherit, so I was ill-informed about the family holdings. More than that, I have no head for business. Then my father and older brother died unexpectedly of a fever. The Launceston finances were in such a shambles that the family man of business, a lawyer, came all the way to Bombay to break the news and force me to make some quick decisions. My brother had been gambling heavily and the estates were badly encumbered. The lawyer thought I should dispose of most of the property to cover the debts. I would have been left with a modest independence, but nothing more.”
He grimaced. “I’ve always been rather vague about money. I took the lawyer at his gloomy word and was ready to sign whatever he put in front of me. It was Adam who stopped me, read all the papers, asked the right questions. It became obvious that the lawyer’s advice would benefit himself much more than me.
“Adam recommended a new man of business, then steered me into the right investments to rebuild the family fortunes. It’s taken four years to get the debts under control, but thanks to your cousin, the estate has been preserved and there will be something to pass on to the next generation of Launcestons.”
As Antonia listened, she forgot to be ladylike, pulling her knees up and looping her arms around them as she gazed unseeing at the hills. “While my opinion of Adam has always been of the highest, it’s strange to think of him as a merchant prince, a legend,” she said reflectively. “On the other hand, it is easy to see him as a man who will go an extra mile to help a friend.”
“It was far more than an extra mile,” Simon said. “He even lent me the money to take advantage of his investment suggestions. I could never have come about without him.” A husky note entered his soft tenor. “Yet his financial help is not the greatest service he has done me.”
Antonia felt a premonitory shiver at his words. For the last week they had behaved with perfect propriety, saying nothing that could not be overheard by the world, but the awareness between them was acute.
Praying that he was about to declare himself, she turned to him, knowing that her eyes were filled with longing.
“Best of all, Adam introduced me to you,” Simon finished. His blue eyes were so close and intense that Antonia felt that she would melt right there, the force of her emotions causing her to dissolve like sugar in the rain.
He leaned forward, closing the inches between them to kiss her with exquisite slowness. At the feel of his warm lips on hers, Antonia gasped and pressed against him, raising her hand to bury her fingers in the dark curls at the back of his head. She had dreamed of this magic moment for a lifetime, and it was everything she had hoped for.
As his arms circled her waist and drew her nearer, the kiss extended and deepened, passion building until finally Simon broke away. He pulled her into a rib-crushing embrace against him while he fought to regain his breath and his self-control. “I’m sorry, Antonia,” he said raggedly. “I had thought to behave with some decorum, but that was impossible.”
“I’m not sorry, Simon.” She lifted her head. “I don’t want decorum. I feel like shouting from the rooftops.”
The lean, beautifully sculpted planes of his face were classical statuary brought to warm life, and his dark lashes were ridiculously long, framing eyes the intense blue of cobalt. As their gazes locked, he began to smile, gently brushing a wisp of apricot hair from her cheek. “I have trouble believing that you might return my feelings.”
“But I do, Simon, I do.” She tilted her face, hoping he would kiss her again.
Instead, he said meditatively, “Being introduced to you in a parlor was so mundane and inappropriate. There you stood, looking like a goddess come to earth to give mankind a glimpse of higher things. I could scarcely believe you were real.”
“It was like that for me, too. As soon as I saw you, I knew.” She snuggled closer in his arms, knowing that if he didn’t make an offer soon, she was going to commit the incredible faux pas of proposing to him instead. The moment seemed too wonderful to be real, yet his embrace was reassuringly solid.
“Antonia, I realize that we have known each other only a few days, but I want you to be my wife.’’ He hesitated. “It may be too soon to speak, but—is there any hope for me?”
It was the declaration she had waited to hear all her life. Her tone unsteady, Antonia replied, “It isn’t too soon, Simon. Nothing could give me greater happiness than to wed you.” Then the bubbling excitement rose in her and she laughed from pure joy. “And the sooner the better!”
* * * *
The excursion was pleasant. Judith had needed silks for her embroidery, so Adam drove her into Buxton, the nearby spa town that an earlier Duke of Devonshire had tried to build into a resort as fashionable as Bath.
Though the town had failed to reach such heights, it was attractive and prosperous. The Crescent that Devonshire had built was every bit as fine as anything in Bath. Adam had accompanied her to the draper’s, then they had taken a nuncheon at an inn.
They had been together almost constantly for the last week, and Judith had never been happier. After the scene in the garden when Adam had revealed so much of himself, a feeling of closeness developed between them very quickly.
To Judith’s perceptive eye, he seemed happier now that he had given up his hopes about Antonia. Certainly he had become a charming and attentive companion to Judith. She liked his easy disposition and the gentleness that accompanied his great strength, and the warmth in his eyes kindled a glow of response within her.
In her years with Antonia, there had occasionally been men who showed interest in the quiet companion, but none who made much effort to draw her out. Adam did.
When they arrived back at Thornleigh, Adam was recounting a hilarious tale of a trading voyage when an Indian boy had talked him into accepting a monkey for barter, and what had happened when the monkey got into the liquor closet. She was laughing as they entered the foyer of the manor house to find Antonia and Simon.
The other couple had obviously just come in, and they stood at the foot of the stairs, staring at each other as Antonia’s hand lay on Lord Launceston’s arm. Feeling an intruder, Judith stopped in embarrassment, her retreat blocked by Adam, who was close behind her.
Antonia turned at the sound of footsteps and smiled radiantly. Her bright hair blazed in the sunbeams like red-gold fire, and she had never looked more beautiful. “We have wonderful news. Will you wish us happy?”
It had been inevitable from the first moment Antonia and Simon had met. There was no reason for Judith to feel such a sense of loss. She shot a sidelong glance at Adam, who had come up beside her. She sensed him bracing himself as he absorbed the blow.
Then he stepped forward with an answering smile as his exhilarated cousin threw herself into his arms. “Of course I wish you happy. Tony.” His powerful arms caught her up in a hug that lifted her from the floor.
As he set her back on her feet. Lord Launceston said to Adam, “As her ladyship’s honorary brother, perhaps I should have asked your permission to pay my addresses.”
Adam laughed and offered his hand. “Nonsense.
For what it’s worth, I approve, but Tony is her own mistress and always does exactly what she wants anyhow. It would take a stronger man than I to persuade her from a course she is set on.”
Judith was proud of Adam’s control. Surely there must be some distress under his good-natured congratulations, but he let no shadow of private grief mar the other couple’s happiness.
Judith gave Antonia a hug, then offered her own hand to Lord Launceston. For just a moment her gaze met his deep-blue eyes and she mourned for all the romantic dreams that would never come true for her. Romance was for the bright and beautiful, the blessed of the gods. For women like Lady Antonia Thornton. “Congratulations, my lord. I know you both will be very happy.”
“Thank you.” He sent a besotted glance toward Antonia. “I can’t believe what a lucky fellow I am.”
“I think the luck is mutual,” Judith said softly.
Simon returned his gaze to her. They both realized at the same moment that he still held her hand, and he let go hastily.
“Have you made wedding plans yet?” Judith asked to fill the silence.
“Soon,” Antonia answered for her betrothed. “Three weeks to cry the banns.”
Lord Launceston appeared gratified but dubious. “Don’t you want to go to London for bride clothes? And a settlement must be worked out.”
Antonia gazed at him lovingly. “I have more than enough clothing to be married in, and who cares about tedious things like settlements?”
Adam’s deep voice cut in. “Since marriage is an arrangement of property as well as affection, such things really cannot be ignored. Tony. However, it should be easy enough to reach an agreement. The wedding needn’t be delayed.”
“I’d like to talk with you on the subject, Adam.” Lord Launceston gave a slow smile. “You know more about my finances than I do myself.”
“Of course.” Adam waved his hand dismissively. “Whenever it is convenient.”
Simon sighed. “It will never be convenient, but I suppose it should be dealt with as soon as possible. Why not right now?”
Adam chuckled, his gray-green eyes twinkling. “It never ceases to amaze me that a man who can do the most abstruse astronomical calculations has trouble understanding simple interest. Tony, it might be best if you join us. If we work out the general outlines of the settlement now, it will save the lawyers time.”
“Very well. I’ll meet you in the library when I have changed.” Antonia noticed Simon’s surprise when Adam invited her to join the men. Though it was unusual for a prospective bride to participate in such a discussion, Antonia had been active in the management of her own estate and investments since she was eighteen. She had no intention of stopping now.
She slipped her arm into her companion’s. “Judith, will you come and listen to me chatter?”
As promised, Antonia chattered like a magpie as she changed her dress and her maid restyled her windblown hair. Her principal topic was the utter splendor of her betrothed and what a lucky woman she was, opinions that Judith could endorse with all sincerity.
After dismissing her abigail, Antonia turned to Judith, “You will stand up with me, won’t you? I can’t imagine anyone else I would rather have at my side.”
“Of course.” Judith smiled at her affectionately. “The last and best office a companion can offer.”
It took a moment for the meaning of the words to penetrate Antonia’s excitement. Then she exclaimed, “The last? Surely you’re not going to leave me?”
“As a married woman, you don’t need a companion,” Judith pointed out. “And I can’t imagine that a newly married couple needs a third person constantly underfoot.”
Antonia made a quick, impatient movement of her hand. “Don’t be ridiculous. You did not join the household for reasons of propriety, but friendship. Acquiring a husband does not mean that one needs no other friends.”
Judith wavered for a moment. It was true that if she stayed with Antonia there would still be friendship, and she would make herself useful in return for a lifetime of comfort and security.
Then Judith thought of Simon bending adoringly over Antonia, and her resolve to leave firmed again. She wished them every joy in the world, but their felicity would underline her own solitary state.
She would be a fool to subject herself to that. “It won’t do, Antonia. I’ve loved every minute in your household, but I have always wanted to travel, and with the ridiculously high salary you have been paying me, I can now afford to do so. Perhaps I’ll go to America. I’ve always wanted to see the New World, perhaps even live there permanently.”
Antonia suppressed her protest, knowing she had no right to do so. “But . . . you will write? America is so far away.”
“Of course I’ll write. Even if I go, I probably won’t stay there.” Judith gave Antonia a hug. “I may be too English to live in another land.”
Antonia sighed as she returned the hug. In a vague way she had thought of marriage as the life she already had, with the delicious addition of a handsome husband. But it couldn’t be that simple.
“I’d best go down and talk about settlements with Adam and Simon,” she said ruefully. “It has just been brought home to me that there is a great deal more to marriage than falling in love.”
* * * *
Antonia, her cousin, and her betrothed settled in the library with a large pot of tea and a plate of cakes to fortify them for a lengthy discussion of jointures, inheritance rights of children yet unborn, reversion in the case of death without issue, and all the rest of the questions that must be decided. The business aspects of marriage were complex.
Two cups of tea later, as Antonia regarded her future husband’s beautiful, startled face, she realized that emotions were even more complicated than financial issues.
“Your income is how much?” Simon asked incredulously.
“In the neighborhood of twenty thousand pounds a year,” Antonia repeated. “More in a good year.”
“I assumed that your father left you comfortably well-off, but it never occurred to me your fortune is so much greater than my own. Even when the mortgages are paid off, the difference will still be substantial.” Lord Launceston shook his head in bemusement. “Had I know the extent of your inheritance, I would never have had the effrontery to offer for you.”
“Then I’m very glad you didn’t know.” Antonia smiled mischievously. “Now your friends will think you vastly clever for capturing an heiress.”
Simon was unamused. “I never fancied myself in the role of fortune hunter,” he said stiffly.
Antonia looked at him uncertainly, not knowing what to say. A more venal man would have openly delighted in her wealth, but honorable sorts like Simon disliked the appearance of avarice. She wouldn’t have loved him if he were not honorable—but at the moment, his scruples were a problem.
Adam looked up from the notes he had been taking. Because the newly betrothed couple trusted his honesty and his desire to see them both well-served by the settlement, he was acting as mediator in the negotiations. “No one who’s ever seen you absently bestow a guinea on a potboy will think you overinterested in a fortune,” he said soothingly. “Besides, Tony’s father left her fortune tied up so thoroughly that you couldn’t run mad with it even if you wished to.”
“That’s true,” Antonia agreed, remembering some of the details of her father’s will. She shot a guilty look at her betrothed. “One of the conditions is that my husband must take the Thornton name. My father didn’t want to see his own line die out when the title went to my cousin.”
Men of fortune placed great value on continuation of their names. It was not uncommon for wills to require that an indirect heir or the husband of an heiress take on the name of their benefactor. Lord Launceston was not an egotistical man, but as the possessor of a proud old name of his own, it was not to be expected that he would receive the news with enthusiasm.
“Was the earl expecting you to marry a fortune hunter who would be eager to comply?”
he asked with a trace of uncharacteristic sarcasm.
“Women are always expected to abandon their family names,” Antonia pointed out with some asperity. “I believe England is the only country in Europe where a woman’s family name is routinely lost on marriage. Is that fair?”
“It probably isn’t fair,” Simon admitted, “but it is the custom.” He paused to consider, his brow wrinkled. “Though I never thought of myself as overconcerned with tradition, I find that I am reluctant to change my family name.’’ He appealed to Adam as a fellow male. “Surely you can understand that.”
“Not having an honorable old name myself limits my ability to empathize,” Adam said dryly. “However, if I recall correctly, the will permits the joining of both names rather than requiring Tony’s husband to abandon his own name completely.”
“Thornton-Launceston will be a mouthful, but I daresay I’ll become accustomed quickly.” Simon’s glance softened as it fell on his betrothed. “It’s a small price to pay.”
Relieved, Antonia smiled back, basking in the warmth of his vividly blue eyes. When two people loved each other, surely all problems could be solved as easily as the ones just surmounted.
Chapter Four
One would have thought that a newly betrothed couple would find an evening of stargazing a highly romantic interlude. One would have been wrong.
The night was just cool enough that a warm masculine arm would have been welcome, Antonia thought regretfully, but her beloved had been fiddling with his miniature telescope ever since they came outside.
They had been betrothed for three whole days now. She suppressed a yawn. At this season the sky didn’t darken until nearly ten, and it was nearing midnight now. She wouldn’t have minded if there had been enough light to admire Simon, but he was only one more shadow in a moonless night.
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